


Get Up Bampot

by Ghostttrees



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Minor Dean Thomas/Ginny Weasley, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6399505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostttrees/pseuds/Ghostttrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Seamus and their journey toward being "pals." </p>
<p>*Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter, they all belong to JK Rowling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Up Bampot

Even at his first opening banquet, Dean kept quiet while eating, being lost in thought. At first he admired how the room looked. The room was extremely large, covered in old stones that seemed to each have an old story of their own. The ceiling was so expertly drawn that the pictures seemed to be moving, oh what, they might actually be really moving. The room had four long tables stretched across the entire room while filled with hundreds of students, yet for some reason this year’s entering class seemed rather small.

Among the various things that plagued Dean’s mind, one topic stuck out past the others: his family. He thought back to the time he got the letter. When he read it for himself at first he experienced feelings of confusion almost immediately followed by that of excitement and joy. His step-father and siblings seemed ecstatic for him. All but his mother, for that letter’s arrival had caused a change in her that day. For the following months her brown eyes became stormier and her black hair had spawned some grey streaks. She had become stoic, staying to herself. Her husband would try to talk to her about what was going on. Dean wasn’t sure whether she had decided to let him in on it or not, but he never asked. Through the weeks Dean would notice that she would often stare at the belongings of her ex-husband for a few minutes than put it in the back of the closet as if trying to hide a dirty secret. She seemed quietly against the idea of him going, but didn’t seem to want to vocalize her opinions. This continued even into his last days before leaving for Hogwarts. Dean’s mother saw him off with a smile with sad eyes, as if she were losing him forever. In spite of this he put one foot in front of the other with his supplies and sketchbook collected, he entered the station. Somehow he made his way onto the train platform by going through a solid wall; and, yes, he knew how that sounded. He figured every part of his life from now on would be abnormal. There were others around his age occupying the space of the train, Dean even spoke to a few. In the middle of someone talking about themselves (Lavender was it?) he slipped off into daydreaming about what the school would be like.

While still eating at the present banquet, Dean was brought out of his memories by a rather rowdy person also sitting at the Gryffindor table. Continuing to eat, he turned his attention down the table “I’m half-and-half. Me da’s a Muggle. Mam didn’t tell him she was a witch until after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock to him when he found out,” said the guy matter-of-factly while looking around the table. Toward the end of those words his eyes seemed to linger on Dean’s for a bit before looking back down to his food. The guy in question was short with blue eyes and sandy hair. He had impish features and a perpetual smile on his face. The boy was,if Dean remembered correctly, also new to Hogwarts. He continued to speak to the other members of the table. Dean was still slightly shocked at what he heard, not surprised at what he heard mind you.  Dean was shocked by the realization that his father may have done the same thing, and not told his mother that he was a wizard. By this time he was aware that Muggle borns, those magical people born from two non-magical people, were a case; but those were usually rare cases. This would provide a more likely explanation of his heritage and, possibly, the disappearance of his father. This idea caused his mind to race with questions right after the possibility of that answer came. Who exactly was Dean’s father? Why would he hide who he was from Dean’s mother? What were the circumstances of his disappearance? The most pressing question, at least from Dean’s point of view, was one that he had been wondering all his life? Why had his father left without saying goodbye and why did he never come back?

The bombardment of these and other questions disoriented Dean to the point where he hadn’t even noticed that the ceremony had concluded. As he followed the rest of his new housemates up staircase after staircase another member of the group had tapped his shoulder.

“I’m Seamus by the way,” said the rowdy boy from the banquet, “Seamus Finnigan.”

Dean gave a half smile before replying, “Dean Thomas.”

~       ~       ~

Dean had stopped his internalized questioning to deal with more pressing matters, the horrors of school. Even magical school had its problems. Barely a few weeks in and Dean had already gotten lost, missed a class, and tripped on something invisible on multiple occasions. If trying to keep up with his completely new classes wasn’t hard enough, he was constantly being caught off guard the Hogwarts ghosts in every corridor of the school. In fact he missed his class for the first time due to being started by Nearly Headless Nick who apologized for startling him and, after Dean collected his things from the ground and shoving his heart back down his throat, proceeded to have a nice conversation about art.

At this time, Dean was eating breakfast in the Great Hall. He had started his first art project since first entering the school, drawing his first stop and current eating area, the Great Hall. He’d drawn the stones, the tables, and even a couple students. Dean was getting ready to tackle the challenge of drawing the ever changing ceiling when he was surprised by an explosion followed by a puff of smoke.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Dean said while looking in the direction the sound had originated and what he saw was brilliant. He turned to look at Seamus covered in soot with a bewildered look on his face. Looking closer just a little bit was enough to reveal that the boy had missing parts of his eyebrows. Dean’s laughing had joined the uproar caused by the incident. His laughing began to die down when he. Dean looked at his new Irish roommate, who held a confused look still staring down at his cup as if it would repair the damage that he himself had done. After a brief time of looking about the room, the boy’s gaze locked with Dean’s own. Seamus wasn’t sure of the reason himself, but most likely it was because Dean was the only one not still laughing at him that the boy was aware of. When the laughing died down, Dean offered to go with the boy to help him get cleaned up. The boy took him up on the offer and stumbled away from his seat, which warranted a chuckle from Dean. Dean used his arms to balance the boy and walk him out of the Great Hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, for reading till the end! This fic was a long time coming. I do plan to make this multiple chapters all the way to the end of the book, but if you actually like this story and it never gets updted. . . my bad. Let me know how you feel about it.


End file.
